


The Woman I Want to See Under Us

by urusaiwrites (urusai)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Lemon, Multi, Smut, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urusai/pseuds/urusaiwrites
Summary: Sakura thinks back to the first time she saw that look in Shikamaru’s eye.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru, Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru/Tenten, Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru/Yamanaka Ino, Nara Shikamaru/Yamanaka Ino
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The Woman I Want to See Under Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blacxican1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacxican1/gifts).



Sakura pulls her dripping mouth away from Tenten’s breast, watching it bounce first from her release, then Shikamaru’s steady rhythm between Tenten’s thighs. Shikamaru’s eyes are glued to Sakura’s face, and she blushes, even after all this time. Even given the wanton mess Tenten makes as she writhes between them. Sakura closes her eyes, remembering that same look Shikamaru gave her on their first night together. Together with Ino, that is.

Sakura had struck out with yet another potential boyfriend, and Ino had invited her over to commiserate. Ino had put her up to this one, a nice kid from Ino’s literature section. “He seems super chill,” Ino had promised. “Bright, but not a know-it-all.” 

Super Chill had been completely uninterested in volunteering anything about himself. When he asked Sakura about her interests, Super Chill interrupted to demonstrate how much he knew about her favorite drama, the cool new band she had seen a few weeks ago downtown. He saw them last _month_ , and would she believe his brother knew the drummer from high school? 

Yea, right, Sakura had thought. When he let her pick up the bill and didn’t even reach for his own wallet, that was the last straw. Sakura left cash for her half of the meal, excused herself to the restroom, and disappeared out the back. She had driven them there for lunch, be she figured Super Chill knew everything, so he’d find his way back to campus on his own.

Sakura woke up to a flood of cellphone notifications. She rubbed at her face and sat up, blinking at the bright, angry screen. Ino. Super Chill had sent her a message saying that her friend had abandoned him off campus. It was after dinner now, and Ino was starting to worry. 

_Forget about Super Chill, Forehead, get up here. We’re pre-gaming._

Still wearing her make up from the date and the lounge pants and tee she’d changed into when she got back to her dorm room, Sakura trudged up to Ino’s room from hers. Her shoulders slumped as she lifted one heavy foot after another up the stairs. Sakura was ready to drink herself into oblivion.

“I don’t care what you think,” Ino’s muffled voice carried through the door over the plaintive music inside. Sakura could hear the low, almost indifferent sounding response, but couldn’t make out the words. Then Ino’s shrill voice cut in again, “She’s coming out with us tonight. It’s not like you have to do anything differently than usual. She can drink either of us under the table. We won’t be babysitting.”

Sakura drew her hand away from the door. She had thought Shikamaru had been weird about her third wheeling with them one night before, but thinking so wasn’t the same as hearing Ino confirm it. Sakura began to back away to the stairwell when she heard Ino clearly and saw the door knob turn, “I’m going down to get her now.”

Sakura cleared her throat as Ino nearly barreled into her. “I’m here, Ino,” Sakura said, catching her friend in a half-hug to avoid falling over.

“Jeez, Forehead!” Ino exclaimed. “You could have texted back, ya know.”

“Sorry,” Sakura said, looking down to the carpet. 

“Shots,” Shikamaru called from inside, three glasses lined up on the desk next to Ino’s lofted bed. He set the handle down and picked up the shot glasses, two in one hand, one in the other, and extended the two toward the ladies in the hall.

“Let’s drown your sorrows, then,” Ino said, walking back inside through the open door to take the shots from Shikamaru.

Sakura followed her inside reluctantly, watching Ino swivel her hips to the music as she took the shots from his hand. Shikamaru met Sakura’s gaze, ignoring Ino, and looked pointedly at the door behind her. Sakura turned to shut it, annoyed at the momentary flutter of her breath that his eyes on hers had provoked.

Turning back from the door, she accepted her shot from Ino and knelt to sit on the oversized pillows and comfy blankets under the lofted bed. Ino braced one hand against the bunk overhead and held her glass out between Sakura and Shikamaru. 

“Fuck dudes,” Ino toasted for Sakura’s benefit as they clinked the glasses together.

“Hello, dude here,” Shikamaru scowled but tossed back his shot with the other two anyway.

“And I’ll fuck _you_ later,” Ino quipped, taking their tiny glasses back to her desk for a refill.

Shikamaru drew a small plastic screw top container and rolling papers out of his pocket.

“Is that... weed?” Sakura asked, incredulous, never having seen the stuff in the wild. An egg cracking into a frying pan with the subtitle, “This is your brain on drugs,” from one of the mandatory dorm substance abuse education classes came to mind.

Shikamaru removed the screw top and looked into the container in parody of Sakura’s shock. “Gee, Sakura, I don’t know,” he said cooly, turning to Ino, “Ino, is this weed?” He grinned a wicked grin and set to breaking down the leaves from the stems.

“Sure smells like,” Ino confirmed, extending another round of shots to them.

“To getting Sakura high for the first time,” Shikamaru toasted, pausing his work on the grass to accept and raise his shot glass.

Sakura drank before disagreeing. “I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “I’m not really into that sort of thing.”

“Trust us,” Shikamaru said, spreading the green substance over a rolling paper and deftly twisting it up. He paused to lick the edge of the paper before sealing the joint shut and sticking the end in his mouth. “You wanna be high for this,” he spoke with the joint dangling from his mouth.

Sakura swallowed nervously, feeling heat rise again at his dark eyes on her. There was something sensual, almost reverent about his handling of the joint. She kicked herself internally for having such thoughts about Ino’s boyfriend.

Shikamaru screwed the lid back on the container and reached up to set it on the desk before pulling out a silver metal lighter and rising to crack Ino’s window. Ino tossed him a cardboard tube with a dryer sheet secured to the end with a hair elastic. Shikamaru caught the tube with his free hand and lit the joint with other. He took a slow drag, holding the tube to his lips before exhaling through it and out the open window.

Sakura’s lips twisted, her nose wrinkling at the sour green and fresh linen scent. 

Shikamaru offered the joint and tube to her. “Suck on it like a straw and inhale. Hold it in a few seconds before you breathe out into the tube,” he instructed.

Sakura did as she was told, smoke puffing everywhere but through the tube as she coughed.

“Nice work, champ!” Ino grinned at her as she accepted the joint and tube Sakura held out to her. 

“I did it? I guess,” Sakura managed, gratefully accepting the water bottle Shikamaru passed her from Ino’s mini fridge. She took several gulps, wrinkling her nose again at the burnt, brown smell her mouth left behind on the plastic bottle.

“Coughing means you inhaled,” Ino croaked as she breathed out through the tube before passing the paraphernalia back to Shikamaru.

Sakura nodded, the three of them silent but for Ino’s humming along to the music and tapping on her laptop to queue up the next song. Sakura coughed less when Shikamaru passed her the joint the second time. She managed to blow the smoke through the tube before making the hand off to Ino.

“You might not feel it this time,” Shikamaru cautioned as he peered at Sakura’s wide eyes. “The high may come on you sort of like liquor does, it may not.”

“Come on you,” Ino giggled, stubbing the joint out on Sakura’s bottle cap on the desk. “You finished, Forehead?” Ino asked, gesturing to the nearly-empty water bottle.

Sakura drained the last of it and handed it over for Ino to drop the joint inside, screw on the cap, and drop it into the bin. Sakura vaguely registered Ino’s words about her current state of dress as her gaze floated between Ino digging through her wardrobe on the right and Shikamaru seated on a cushion to the left. A thought floated somewhere behind her vision about how attractive her friend and her friend’s boyfriend were, unaccompanied by her normal judgment. 

Sakura suddenly realized she was on a high-stakes sartorial game show as Ino held out option 1 and option 2. Both dresses seemed impossibly small, and she felt her brow knit as she tried to find words to request a third, more reasonable option. Sakura’s hearing tuned back into the room with what felt like a pop between her ears. 

“She’s baked,” she heard Shikamaru muse with a suppressed chuckle. 

“Try them on, Forehead,” Ino urged, holding the options out to her. 

Sakura accepted the hangers and stood warily, expecting the room to spin. When it stayed put, she wandered over to change behind the wardrobe door. “Don’t look,” she called to them as she kicked off her sweats. 

“You don’t have anything we haven’t seen before,” Ino responded dryly from the cushion Sakura had vacated at Shikamaru’s side.

She wiggled into the first tiny dress, a little black number, and struggled with the zipper in back. Sakura peeked around the door to find the couple going at it on the cushions. “A little help?” she huffed, reaching one arm behind her futilely.

Ino pulled away from Shikamaru and made a face as her eyes fell on Sakura. “No, Forehead. Try the red one,” she commanded before turning back to her work on Shikamaru’s mouth. Sakura caught his eye and the sheen on his lips, open in a half smile. He held her gaze as she darted back behind the door to pull on the tiny red number.

“Ok, how’s this one?” Sakura asked, emerging to find Shikamaru’s hand down Ino’s skirt. Sakura cleared her throat. “I’m right here, you two. I still need help with the zipper.”

Shikamaru drew his hand from Ino’s nethers and stood up to cross the room, hands in his pockets. He sidled up behind Sakura and ran his hands up her sides over the satin.

She clutched her arms across her chest, holding the dress close to her front. She looked in near terror at Ino’s glossy eyes on her and Shikamaru, pleading with her eyes for Ino to intervene.

Ino stayed put, a languid smile stretching her features.

Shikamaru dragged his fingertips over Sakura’s shoulders and up to draw her hair into his hands before laying it over her shoulder. He reached down to zip the dress slowly, the finger atop the zipper pull tracing the indentation between the muscles around her spine.

Sakura closed her eyes at the sensation, willing him to get it over with. 

When she felt the pull of the zipper stop, Shikamaru drew her hair from the other shoulder to hang long in the back. “All done,” he breathed. “I love this dress on you, Ino, but it suits her. You’ll have to do something with that hair, though.”

Sakura melted at his second sentence and flinched at the third. “What’s wrong with my hair?” she whined. Then she tried to run her fingers through it. “Oh.”

“Relax, Forehead, I’ve got you,” Ino said, pushing up off the floor to retrieve a brush and a red scarf, a little darker in hue than the dress, from her dresser. Ino grabbed Sakura’s hand and led her back to the cushions under the lofted bed to brush out her pink tresses.

Shikamaru took a seat at Ino’s laptop and queued up another song, poured fresh shots. “For the ladies,” Shikamaru offered the small glasses to them. They raised the shots and drank, Sakura’s expression wary from the two they’d already had and the weed. 

Ino finished brushing out her hair and tying it back from her temples with the scarf. “Let’s go then,” Ino said, admiring her handiwork. She shoved a pair of heels at Sakura.

Sakura didn’t bother to ask where they were going. The last drink and the smoke rendered her mute, a compliant third wheel in the back of Shikamaru’s SUV. Ino was already dancing in the passenger seat. “You’ll love this place, Forehead,” she shouted over the stereo as he pulled into a parking space outside the club.

Sakura let herself out of the car and let Ino take her arm. The two followed Shikamaru past the line up to a bouncer who greeted Shikamaru by name and ushered them inside past a velvet rope. 

Sakura teetered in her borrowed heels through the crowd behind Ino. She found herself at the bar, accepting another drink from Shikamaru. Ino was already sipping and dancing. Sakura hadn’t noticed Ino slip out of her grasp.

“Are you alright, Sakura?” Shikamaru asked, brushing a stray hair out of her eyes.

Sakura nodded, wondering why he had been so attentive to her so far if he hadn’t wanted her along but for Ino’s insisting. 

“Let’s dance then,” he suggested, drawing her out toward Ino on the dance floor. 

Sakura couldn’t help but smile and shimmy along, Ino’s enthusiasm infectious. She laughed when Ino pulled Shikamaru to her and turned around to grind against him. 

“Get in here, Forehead,” Ino called, arm outstretched to her. 

Sakura complied, feeling a little awkward at first, warming up as the music took over and she sipped more drink. Ino’s hip bumped hers as they danced against him, Shikamaru’s hand gripping Sakura’s opposite hip. Ino spun to sandwich Sakura between them.

“You’re turning Ino on,” Shikamaru whispered in her ear.

Sakura watched Ino watch her boyfriend whisper in Sakura’s ear. Sakura knew she was a bit drunk and a smidge high, but to her eye, Ino was less turned on than she was jealous of sharing his attention. When Shikamaru lifted his lips from Sakura’s ear, Ino leaned in to claim them with hers over Sakura’s shoulder. 

Wedged between them, Sakura froze. Shikamaru’s grip on her waist loosened and his hand wandered, a finger hooking under the hem of the red dress, tracing left to right across her thigh. Ino’s knee pressed between her legs. The slight shift made Sakura’s backside push with shocking awareness into Shikamaru’s growing erection.

Shikamaru broke the kiss first, pulling away to invite Sakura in more formally. “We wouldn’t want to leave her out, would we, Ino?” he asked, voice low. Sakura closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

“No, we wouldn’t,” Ino agreed, taking a hand to the nape of Sakura’s neck to pull her into a kiss. 

Sakura’s eyes went wide under Ino’s soft lips. They grew wider still when Shikamaru’s hand lifted the hem of the dress, hidden behind Ino, to graze her damp panties.

“She’s wet for us,” Shikamaru said into Sakura’s neck, dropping small kisses and tracing patterns there with his tongue. His fingers grew more adventurous, slipping under the panties, and Sakura’s modesty had had enough.

“Let’s go somewhere private,” she pleaded, pulling away to straighten the dress. “I’m not so wasted that I’m cool with being fingerbanged on a dance floor.”

Shikamaru shrugged and started to drain his drink, leading them back toward the bar to drop off their glasses.

In the car, Shikamaru’s eyes flicked from Ino in the passenger seat to Sakura in the rear view mirror. “I told you there was no need to go out tonight,” he drawled.

“Benny didn’t charge you a cover,” Ino countered, “Nothing lost. We’re headed to yours, right?”

Sakura was sobering up in the backseat, realizing they’d been arguing about going out earlier, not her joining them for the evening. If anything, the dark look in Shikamaru’s eyes reflected back at her in the rear view expressed a want she hadn’t seen in him before. She’d heard Ino’s stories of their conquests, but never imagined she’d be one of them.

She followed them up to his apartment and inside where Shikamaru bid them remove their shoes. Sakura was relieved to kick off her borrowed heels. “How do wear these, Ino?” she whined, rubbing her toes.

“High pain tolerance,” Ino quipped.

Ino busied herself pouring more drinks in his kitchen as Shikamaru flipped on low lights in the living room and showed Sakura where to find the bathroom. She thanked him and shut the bathroom door, using the moment alone to collect her thoughts.

She’d been hoping to take Super Chill to her own bed tonight; she wasn’t a prude. So why hesitate to lay with her best friend and her boyfriend? Sure, she’d never done that before. She’d never smoked either, and that was a pleasant feeling. Sakura flushed and washed her hands, resolved to enjoy the experience the two of them offered her. Padding back down the hall, she found Ino and Shikamaru flicking through vinyl records in the crates in the living room, bickering over an appropriate genre. 

“Sakura can cast the deciding vote,” Shikamaru said, brightening at her return. “R&B? Or electronic psych rock?”

Sakura laughed, reaching for the unattended drink on the coffee table and nestling into the chair next to the couch. “R&B, please. Set the mood.”

Shikamaru laid the record on the turntable, dropped the needle, and laid back on the couch across from Ino.

“So,” Sakura began, trying to sound relaxed and confident, “I don’t know how this usually works. Do we just get naked?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ino laughed. “Come here, Forehead.” She patted the cushion between her and Shikamaru.

Sakura set the glass down and slid between them. She let Ino kiss her again and felt Shikamaru move closer behind her. He dragged the zipper he had closed in Ino’s dorm room down, exposing her back to him. He trailed soft kisses down her spine.

“Someone’s interested in getting naked right away,” Sakura mused when Ino came up for air. She let Ino lift the dress over her head and helped Ino with her own zipper before Shikamaru turned her around to face him.

As Ino wiggled out of her dress, Shikamaru drew Sakura into long, wet kiss.

“You have no idea how long he’s wanted to do that,” Ino, all legs and lingerie, purred from behind her. Ino reached for Sakura’s shoulder and her drew her back to lie across Ino’s milky thighs and torso. Sakura’s head rested at Ino’s shoulder. 

“You don’t mind if he has a taste, do you?” she asked, looking down at Sakura as she twirled pink hair around her finger.

Sakura looked up at Ino and shook her head no, of course she wouldn’t mind. She turned her gaze back to Shikamaru with a mix of wonder and curiosity. “How long have you…?” Sakura let the question hang.

“I asked Ino what she thought about it the day I met you,” he said, hooking his fingers under the lace on her hips and dragging it down and off. His eyes were heavy-lidded and dark again, fixed on her dripping sex. He pulled off his shirt before sliding onto his stomach, head between her legs.

Ino reached over Sakura’s shoulder to thread her fingers in his hair and draw his mouth to Sakura’s core. Sakura’s eyes closed and her hips bucked at the sensation. Ino had told her once he was good with his tongue. Sakura moaned, loudly, as he traced circles and inserted his fingers. Ino wasn’t wrong.

Ino drew her hand from Shikamaru’s ruffled ponytail to lift Sakura’s chin. “He’s good, right?” she asked.

Sakura nodded and smothered Ino’s giggle with a hungry kiss. Ino unhooked Sakura’s bra as her tongue explored, her hands roaming Sakura’s breasts and tweaking her nipples before pulling the bra off and tossing it onto the crumpled red dress on the floor.

“I think it’s time you let him in,” Ino suggested. She took a hand over Sakura’s and guided it behind her to touch Ino’s clit through her panties. Sakura massaged, hoping what worked for herself would work for Ino, and nodded, watching Shikamaru sit up to remove his pants and briefs.

Ino had told her he was well-hung given how lean he was, so she wasn’t surprised when he fished in his pants pocket for a gold-wrapped condom and slid it over his erection. He took one knee to the sofa, his other foot on the floor, and reached for Sakura’s thighs. He pulled her hips to his, the arm behind her bending awkwardly as he dragged her to him and she wrenched it free.

“Sorry, Sakura, your arm,” he said quietly, eyes glued to hers. Still looking at Sakura’s swollen lips, he said to Ino, “I want to look at her face for a moment, Ino, but when I kiss you next, I wonder if she’ll mind your sitting on her face?”

“I—I can try,” Sakura managed.

“May I put it in?” he asked.

Sakura nodded and reached over to line him up with her entrance. He slid in slowly, still holding her hips up by her thighs, smirking at the sounds she made as he entered her. He started slow, speeding up as Ino stood to remove her own bra and panties and sat back down to watch.

“Good girl, take that dick,” Ino encouraged.

Shikamaru’s eyes were still locked on Sakura’s, and she closed them, a slight wrinkle on her brow at Ino’s dirty talk. Shikamaru took one leg to his shoulder and a thumb to her clit. “Do you like it like this?” he asked.

Sakura nodded and opened her eyes at the sound of his voice. “Yes, please,” she said. “More, deeper.”

Shikamaru lifted her other leg up and wide, hand at her ankle, to pound into her and lean forward. He took his thumb from her clit to reach out to draw Ino up and into a kiss. Sakura held her breath as Ino straddled her face, reaching up to Ino’s thighs to steady herself as much as draw Ino to her. 

Sakura knew Ino had a flair for the dramatic, but she didn’t expect the moans, thrusts, and outright show she put on over Sakura’s chin. Sakura knew she couldn’t be _that_ good at this, and wondered whether Shikamaru thought the same as he watched her. Ino was calling Sakura’s name and cursing, _fuck, Sakura_ , _oh shit, Sakura_ , with every breath.

Shikamaru kept his swift pace, interrupting Ino’s dirty talk to check in, “Sakura, I’m going to come, will you come?”

Sakura gave a muffled affirmation as Ino shouted out, “I’m coming!” Ino tensed and softened quickly. She sat back to cradle Sakura’s head and reach for her clit. “You come too, Sakura,” Ino commanded.

Sakura was almost surprised when she did come, Shikmaru finishing not long behind.

A sweaty, tangled mess of limbs, they pulled apart to clean up and make themselves decent. Shikamaru offered them t-shirts and sweats from his drawer, invited them to snuggle up on either side of him in his bed. Sakura felt his dark eyes on her as he played with her hair on his shoulder, felt Ino roll to her side away from them when sleep found her.

Sakura knew then it would be the two of them, like this, eventually, when Ino moved on.

It took a while, too. Sakura would occasionally join them in bed, though not as often as Ino would condone the two of them together, without her, when she was out of town or feeling sick. It was after graduation when Ino finally broke it off with Shikamaru, for reasons Ino would never share with Sakura but Shikamaru would. She was jealous of the two of them, though she tried desperately to hide it and play it cool. 

Sakura and Shikamaru had both landed great jobs at a health and fitness startup in the city after graduating. At the time, Ino was still working at the florist just off campus. It took a clean break with both of them for Ino to focus on herself and work out her professional life, finally deciding that law school was the way to go. Time and work and school grew between them, and Sakura and Shikamaru hadn’t heard from Ino in over a year.

They still kept busy, the two of them. Sakura had picked up Tenten at the gym after a yoga class. She spent the entire class thinking Shikamaru would love nothing more than to stretch her out, all toned legs and high, tight ass, so Sakura approached Tenten after class.

Shikamaru closes the door as Tenten leaves, and he calls back to Sakura. “I hope you got her number, or you’re going back to that class at least,” he says. “I love that you always find the exact woman I want to see under us.”


End file.
